Alone
by Schuko
Summary: Set in the first years of the show when Webb was still a mystery man. Warning for graphic violence.


Usual Disclaimers apply. Don't shoot me for being a Webbfan (still!), I have no life :)

This was written a couple of years ago, just thought I share with the wonderfull world of the Webbies (ha!) and all the other lunatics.

**Alexandria**

**Webb Residence**

It hurts, it hurts so much, please let it sto..

"Aaah," Clayton Webb let out scream as another blow hit him to his back. It was too much, it hurted too much, but he wouldn't tell, he wasn't.. "Aaah"

Another blow of the whip came crashing on his bare back.

"Well Mr. Webb are you finaly going to let us in on your little secret," Clay could see the satisfaction in the man his eyes as he kicked him in the stomach. It dubbeled him over in pain just as he got another blow to his back. He wasn't going to tell, never. He spit out some blood on the man's shoes, which costet him a strike to his knee. Oh God please make it stop, he begged. He was gasping for air from the broken ribs that stuck into his lungs. And everytime he breathed blood came in his troat wich made him cough and that caused a stabbing pain through his entire body. Everything hurted so much. He tried to look up, but got kicked down the moment he lifted his head from the floor. Clay gritted his teeth from prefenting a sound to come out of his mouth.

"It really would be much easier if you just told us what we want to know Webb," the man cocked a gun and pionted it at Clay, "so much more easier." A shot rang and Clay felt a burning sensation in his hip, this time he couldn't prefend a scream coming from his lips as he tried to cover the wound with his hands. He could feel the blood slipping trough his fingers and running down his leg. He prayed the next shot would be it, he was so tired, so tired.

"We're not letting you of that easy Webb," the man said as he saw that Clayton was almost loosing consciousness. The man stept on the bulletwound and Clay was paralized by the amound of pain that caused that action. He was being pulled up again and got more blows to his back, one after another. He couldn't fight anymore, it was too much, every bone and muscle in his body ached. He coughed and blood was dripping down his chin, he was panting and couldn't breath. Someone twisted his arm around his back and pulled so hard that Clay though his shoulder came loose. He heard a crack and the pain shot through his arm, shoulder, neck and chest. He coughed up more blood and felt his ribs rip his lungs open. He was trown back on the floor and another shot of the gun pierced his left leg. Clay couldn't scream anymore, he was so tired and everything hurted already so much. Suddenly he felt two man holding him down and through his half closed eye's he could see something redhot heading for his chest. Wasn't there an end to it, he wondered as the blazing metal was pushed onto his rightside. The torment was unbearable as Clay somewhere found the energy to try and struggle free. But it was to no avail, he could smell his own burning flesh and it made him feel totally sick. He wanted to puke, but except for blood nothing came out of his empty stomach, he hadn't had food in day's. Eventually he passed out of sheer exhaustion.

Clay woke up with sweat pouring down his face. He looked around and realised were he was. In his own home, safe. He got up out of bed and walked to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. Looking into the mirror he saw a hollow face staring back at him. Realising he wouldn't be able to get much sleep anymore, he got himself dressed into some jeans and a t-shirt. After making some coffee he sat down on the couch and flipped on the TV. But his mind kept wandering back towards the nightmare. Only it hadn't been a nightmare five years ago. It had been all to real. Clay shuddered as he recalled the horrible events of those day's. It should have been such an easy mission. He hadn't been bothered by the memories of it the last years, but now and then he relived them al to vividly in his dreams. Noticing he wasn't paying attention to the TV he turned it of and poured himself some more coffee. After turning on the radio, he walked to the window and stared into the dark night. He hadn't told many people about what had happened in that house. Some of the Agency people who got him out could guess, but except for the psychologist he was forced to talk to and the people who read that same psychologist's report, and he hadn't told her everything, nobody knew exactly what had happened. Not even his mother, who he had called as soon as he had a normal voice. He didn't visit her until there was no physical evidence left, besides the marks under his clothes. There had been no one to confide in who would've understood, who wouldn't make the wrong remarks or say something as meanigless as 'I'm sorry'. Turning away from the window he catched a few words of the song playing on the radio:

Mama, mama, why I'm so alone.

I can't go outside,

because I'm scared that I

might not make it home.

I'm alive but I'm sinking in.

Is anyone home at your place darling,

please invite me in.

Clay smiled ironicly, while walking back to his bedroom. It was almost a perfect reflection of how he felt. Except that there wasn't anyone he called darling.

The End

**Author's note**: I know, I know it's horrible, poor Webb. But when I wrote this I had this depressing day and writing helps me cope with everything, and what better then to take it out on a fictional character. I was actually planning on writing more, but I realised the ending is very Webb-like and I don't have time to write more right now.

The piece of the song is from the Counting Crows and it's called Rain King.


End file.
